by Annie Dean
This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for, right? Most likely, he could snoop around as much as he wanted, as long as he was careful not to be caught by the giant Polynesian or Addie's father, who seemed to live underground like a dwarf. His reaction to her imminent departure made no sense.
"What's going on?” Sean followed her out the door anyway, realizing that he didn't have on any shoes as he hit the sun-warmed tile. “Maybe I can help."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” she answered. “But if you want to come, get your shoes on and meet me in the garage. You have two minutes and then I'm gone. We're needed desperately."
"We are?” Her excitement was contagious, though. Sean found himself sprinting back into the house, through the kitchen, along the hall and up the stairs. He had himself ready to go in under a minute.
He drew up short when he saw her vehicle, though. His dad owned one like it, ages ago. Being kind, you'd call it a classic. A 1953 F-100, if he didn't miss his guess, still painted in original Seafoam Green. Didn't look like the truck had seat belts and probably no turn signals either.
"Is this thing safe? We could take my car."
She flashed him an annoyed look. “Get in and shut up. They need this truck."
Convinced he was no longer the same man who'd boarded the plane in Richmond, he got in and shut up.
Chapter Four
Addie set a record reaching the Kwik-Stop.
As she drove, she stole glances at her passenger. It was fucking disastrous that he'd decided to stay a whole week. The only possible explanation was that he was suspicious and looking for evidence, although she wasn't sure just how bad it would be for her, if he outed her secret enterprise.
The man hadn't seemed to notice her attempts to disarm him with feminine wiles, but that wasn't too surprising. Addie knew she possessed all the subtly seductive charm of a Kwik-Stop cashier. Still. The men she'd rolled with in the old days never complained when she flashed her panties and said she needed a good fuck. Quite the contrary; they'd lined up four deep and let her pick. Her mother hadn't known about her wildness, but her abuela had. The old woman had said with twinkling eyes: “Just don't forget to go to confession, mi vida. This is the best part of being Catholic. It's a free pass to be bad when you're young. When you're old like me, you can worry with prayer beads and rosaries."
This whole mess would be much easier if Sean weren't so damn cute in a wholesome Mom-and-apple-pie kind of way. She didn't know what to do with a nice guy, but had some notion you took them to church and watched family movies and made plans to buy a house in Pawtucket, wherever the hell that was, once you got married. But he already had a wife, even if she was a cheating bitch, and Addie was no good at the long haul in any case.
Addie hadn't liked Camille Duncan the first time she talked to the woman; her phone manner conveyed a supercilious faux-gentility, and now Addie felt guilty, though not because she intended to fuck the lady's husband. Assuming he could be seduced.
Before, it had been all too easy to rake in the money, rationalize the service, and take care of her family as best she could. Fast Eddie hadn't left her with a lot of options, but now she felt like a sack of shit for helping somebody put one over on such a sweet guy, and there were probably a load of sweet guys being fucked over because of her. It had been easier when they didn't have names, faces, and honeyed drawls.
"So what do you do?” she asked, pulling into the Kwik-Stop parking lot.
"I'm in construction."
She peeked at his hands. Well, that was a lie. He might have been, at some point, but not for several years. He didn't have the weathered look of a man who labored out in the elements.
"Really? What's your job on site?"
Sean's look asked ‘do we really want to play this game?’ but he answered, “I do drywall."
"Huh,” she said, and then realized she sounded like Manu. “Lorene! Lorene, get out here! I need to buy everything in your cooler."
The storeowner came out then. Addie's best friend since before Duran Duran was cool; Lorene was also a pretty divorcee who could pass for thirty, easy, if she'd recently applied her Ms. Clairol 104. “Addie, what the—well, hello there."
You should see him in his boxers. Just remembering that glimpse of him, that inappropriate and forbidden glimpse, sent hot sparks sizzling through her nervous system. While Lorene sized Sean up, Addie bristled, although clearly that was a ridiculous reaction. But even so, she felt like hissing, dibs, girl, dibs, just like they'd done in junior high, even though Sean was about as off limits as a man got.
She forced herself to focus. “There's a situation on route 12. I need all the ice you've got out front, anything you have in back too."
"All right,” Lorene said, tearing her eyes away from the man-candy. “But I've got thirty bags at least. BBQ season doesn't start for another month or so."
"I want it all,” Addie said.
Now why did we both look at Sean?
The man wasn't stupid. He took a step back, like he thought he was in danger of being stripped and molested in the Kwik-Stop parking lot. Judging by the way Lorene was looking at him, though, maybe that wasn't too far off the mark.
Addie grinned at him as they started loading up the truck. Welcome to Nowhere, California, where the men are gone and the women are horny. He returned her smile warily, and she tried to be discreet in admiring the ripple of his tanned biceps. He's not a piece of meat, woman. The glint of sunlight on his wedding ring put a damper on her ogling. Right. Not mine, never will be. But I do wonder what the rental would be like...
"You going to tell me what this is about?” Lorene called as Addie climbed into the truck. “And you owe me fifty bucks, dammit!"
"Bill the county sheriff!” she yelled back. “Bye, Lorene!"
By the time they arrived, she had almost gotten over her friend's reaction to the man sitting beside her, although it was kind of nice to have her horniness validated. In general, Lorene had better taste, so there must be something to this one; he sure looked fuck-worthy. The man-candy in question had given up asking what the hell they were doing; now he just stared out the window in what she'd call a brooding silence.
The accident looked rough, a semi on its side, skid marks across the road. She guessed a county ambulance had already taken the driver to the nearest hospital, some forty miles away. Nothing like this had ever happened out here.
And penguins were heavier than they looked.
For such short creatures, they were compact, and none were enthusiastic about being removed from the ditch where they huddled like war widows. Ben Fuller, a deputy with the sheriff's department, manhandled them into the back of Addie's truck. Sean seemed shell-shocked as he ripped open the bags of ice to form a makeshift haven in the back of her pickup. Addie could sympathize; it had been a fucking weird day and it wasn't even noon. But the penguins looked less irate, at least.
"They were being transported from the Indianapolis Zoo,” she explained. “They're going to stay in San Diego while their habitat is being renovated."
"Yeah, but how...” Sean gestured. “Why?"
Fuller came over then, dusting his hands on the thighs of his pants. “The driver got turned around, took the wrong exit off 94 and he ended up way out here. Instead of stopping to look at the map, he was trying to drive and navigate at the same time, hit a bad curve and the truck overturned. Stupid bastard killed four of the little guys."
Well, no wonder the penguins looked upset.
"And we couldn't make these poor fellows sit on the side of the road,” Addie said, as she shut the tailgate. “They'd overheat. Is the octopus all right?"
The deputy nodded. “Yeah, his tank held. Just keep those penguins cool, Addie. I really appreciate this. Oh, and the zoo people might want rooms, depending on what time they get here."
Addie paused. “Are we going to be in trouble, Ben? Is this something we've cleared with any authority higher than ourselves?"
He shrugged. “Th
e sheriff's gone fishing. Who else is there?"
"Point."
From a distance, she figured it looked like a tailgate party, except when passing cars slowed, they saw eleven penguins iced down in the back of Addie's truck. Splashing around, the birds seemed to be having a much better time than anyone else. Fuller couldn't seem to get anyone out to get the semi completely off the road, and pretty soon, they had a full contingent of gawkers, as people detoured this way on purpose, thanks to some dipshit who listened to the police channel for fun. To cap it off, somebody set up a boom box, blaring Huey Lewis and the News.
"This is nuts,” Sean said, coming from the line of parked cars. “There's a guy selling homemade ice cream back there."
She grinned. “All that's missing are the news crews."
They heard Fuller shouting, “Hey, quit throwing those beach balls. This isn't a block party, dammit!"
Someone yelled back, “It is now!"
The waiting got old. She was hot and thirsty, wishing she could climb in with the penguins. More deputies turned up, but they wouldn't arrest everyone on scene, and nobody could raise the sheriff, out on his boat. Eventually a wrecker arrived and started dealing with the jackknifed semi.
"Some way to spend your vacation,” she said to Sean, who was leaning up against the tailgate beside her.
"You really know how to show a man a good time."
Addie flashed him a look. Was he flirting with her? “Oh, this is nothing. Wait ‘til you see what I come up with when I'm trying."
Maybe two hours later, she turned to see a WRTV affiliate arrive in a van with a satellite dish on top of it. Ostensibly, her job was to keep people away from the penguins and to make sure they still had eleven birds in good health when the zoo people arrived from San Diego. However, she didn't think she would be able to shoo news people away; they were notoriously determined. She sighed as an immaculately coiffed blond woman picked her way through the crowd toward them.
Great, we needed news team Barbie.
"Hi there, I'm Cheryl Sanders, correspondent with channel thirteen. Are you an official county representative?"
"Nope.” Maybe it was small of her, but she wasn't providing any sound bytes.
"Oh.” The woman's gaze went to the truck full of penguins behind her. “Are you an animal control specialist then?"
If she actually wanted to publicize the Grail, this would be a great opportunity. But over the last six months, Addie had discovered she much preferred guests who never came in person. So she wasn't interested in her fifteen minutes of fame.
Besides, that came back in 1997, and she'd almost lived it down.
"Nope."
Beside her, Sean smothered what sounded like a snicker, and the reporter turned to him, visibly frustrated. Addie gave the woman high marks for persistence. “Perhaps you can shed some light on what happened here, sir? Who's in charge of the scene?"
"I guess that'd be him.” He indicated the very harried-looking sheriff's deputy, whose calls for assistance had been ignored for the past three-quarters of an hour.
At the sound of his smoky drawl, the reporter's plastic smile warmed a few degrees. “He looks busy. Maybe you could answer a few questions for me. What's your role in this situation?"
Sean smiled and she saw the cameraman adjust the lens, probably zooming in. “I'm just a volunteer, really. It's all about the penguins, ma'am. We want to make sure they reach San Diego safe and sound."
Well, that sounded like pure honey, and the woman clearly knew a money moment when she got one on film. She didn't ask them anything else; instead Ms. Sanders conferred with her cameraman, peering at the playback screen to make sure the lighting was right and a host of other factors that Addie didn't give a shit about. She did care about the smell of someone grilling burgers and brats, maybe five cars back.
Addie grabbed her purse out of the truck and told Sean, “Be right back."
Sean looked like he wanted to argue, but the reporter cornered him again. Whether he liked it or not, he was going to be on TV. A little later, she found the source of the delicious aroma, a bearded guy with a red bandana tied around his head cooking outside his RV. Ms. Sanders was working the crowd nearby, and it looked like she was getting some great footage. Addie guessed it would run as a quirky personality piece.
"I'll take two burgers off your hands,” she said. “How much?"
"Five bucks for the works.” He grinned at her, showing two gleaming gold front teeth. “I'll throw in two Cokes since you're cute."
"Deal.” She passed him the cash, then took the food on staggered Styrofoam plates and threaded her way through the crowd. “Here. Smells good, doesn't it?"
He accepted his burger with a bemused expression. “You bought me lunch?"
"Uh huh. Least I could do since you're proving such a handy penguin guard.” Addie took a huge bite. “Oh, this too.” She pulled his drink from between her breasts. Not having cleavage was pretty good sometimes since she could store stuff between her breasts, and as nobody looked there anymore, it was safer than Bank of America. “It isn't opened,” she assured him, when he seemed hesitant.
But it wasn't hygiene commanding his attention. Glancing down, Addie saw the damp spot on her shirt from the perspiring Coke can and the way her nipples showed through her thin lace bra. Did she look sexy or just stupid?
"Wasn't that cold?” he asked finally, popping the tab on his drink.
"Yeah, but it felt good. Sometimes that's reason enough to do something.” Addie smiled up at him as she took a bite, and then licked the juices from her lips.
"I don't have a whole lot of experience with that philosophy.” Try as she might, she couldn't interpret his tone.
Did I go too far? God, she was so out of practice, but she needed him off balance. She had to get his mind on something besides what she was covering up. If that meant sex, yippee! He was hot, it had been a long time, and that would solve her dilemma. He could hardly call his wife on cheating after sleeping with Addie. That would be pot and kettle semantics, right there. Rendering her own involvement in the alibi a moot point.
Of course, it was possible she might rationalize any course that put her in his bed. She'd once been a woman who couldn't conceive of condoning adultery, but she'd taken some knocks since then, not least of which was Fast Eddie taking his slutpuppy to Atlantic City on her credit card. Ten grand down and just starting to see daylight, thanks to her new enterprise, well, she wouldn't let anyone, not even this man, hold her back. So she was going to wind up in his bed, one way or another. It just satisfied too many convergent needs for it to turn out otherwise.
When they finished their burgers, Addie went in search of the guy selling homemade ice cream. He had vanilla and strawberry in coolers, so she bought one of each. Actually, it was turning into a weirdly fun day, if a touch surreal. She didn't even mind the blasting sound of I Want a New Drug, though it took her back some years. Beside the truck, she danced a bit, hip-wiggles that appeared to amuse the birds.
At sunset, the zoo people arrived and moved the penguins out of their pool in the back of Addie's truck. The party had flagged a while back, just the most determined picnickers hanging around. Sheriff Menlow finally turned up maybe an hour ago and imposed some order on the situation. Before leaving, they dropped the tailgate and the water poured out, soaking the dry ground.
With a stretch and a moan, Addie climbed into the cab. “You ready to go?"
He grinned. “I was ready four hours ago, but I didn't think we should take the penguins home with us."
Home. Now why did his casual use of the word spark such longing?
"Point,” she agreed. “They need a non-chlorine pool, so sadly we're not set to host them as long-term guests. Thanks for your help today. You were great."
"I enjoyed it.” He sounded surprised by that. “Really did."
She started the engine. “Good. Let's see what else we can do to please you."
And I have all kinds of ideas on that.
Chapter Five
Once back in his room, Sean tried to put his finger on where things went astray.
He'd come here with the best intentions ... check around and find out what Cami was really doing. There was no way he should've spent the day guarding penguins or enjoying what had actually been a pretty fun tailgate party. He should've stayed and gone through this place with a fine-tooth comb.
Addie disarmed him, though. He didn't think there was a polite bone in her body. Well, not that she was rude. But with his admittedly short experience of her to draw on, he just couldn't imagine her saying something because it was expected. Such candor was refreshing after ten years of living with someone who never spoke her mind, and quite often Cami found the truth variable, according to circumstances.
It didn't matter if he liked her or how good Addie looked in tattered Levis, though. Those jeans weren't faux-grunge either, where you paid for the frayed hem and artfully torn holes. But he'd definitely noticed how good she looked ... and how the well-worn fabric had molded to her ass over the course of years. The denim had faded nearly white along the seams, shredded on the knees, but he understood holding onto something beyond its time. That was one of the reasons he was in this mess.
Sean didn't let himself wonder why he felt so conscious of her as a woman, after so many years. Inhaling her scent gave him a jolt of sexual awareness, and early in the day, he'd caught himself wondering if her hair would be as silky as it looked, confined in its bouncy little ponytail, wondering about the texture of her skin. At this stage in his life, he couldn't afford an infatuation, but he hoped it was more than a matter of wanting to get back at Cami, to prove that other women wanted him. He would like to be better than that, but Addie wasn't helping with the way she flirted.
And he definitely wasn't imagining it.
Tomorrow he had to be more focused—no more distractions. With a sigh, he picked up his cell, the beep telling him he had voice mail. Sean punched in his code, listened and then almost dropped the device. He had to hear the first part of it again.